


At the Round Earth's Imagined Corners

by escribo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, M/M, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 07:04:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escribo/pseuds/escribo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emmeline wouldn't trade her life now for the safety she once had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Round Earth's Imagined Corners

When Marlene hissed “golem”, Emmeline’s first thought was _fucking finally_. 

Their orders had been simple: let no one pass through this alley unless they had the password. They had been there for hours as day shifted to night, crouched out of sight in a dank alley waiting for _this_ , she supposed, and she was pathetically grateful that something was finally happening. 

Of course, her relief was short lived as the scant light from the high street was blotted out by the lumbering creature that lurched into view. It was enormous, nearly three meters high, and broad enough that its shoulders brushed the brick walls that crowded each side of the lane. An incipient misty sort of rain that seemed to be attached in some way to the monster reached their hiding place, soaking their cloaks through, making the muddy skin of the golem shine dully wet in the meagre light.

It raised what passed for its chin, as if sniffing the air though it couldn’t smell anything, if she remembered correctly. Its stone eyes glittered like black beetles, searching the dark recesses where she and Marlene hid. She searched her memories and came up with the words from one of Professor Bins’ lectures about the clay men of ancient battles. Not that she could remember too much to be helpful. At the time, she had considered his lessons to be more than half myth, her rather staunch sense of practicality being one of her biggest obstacles when she had been at Hogwarts. The hazard of being a witch born rather unexpectedly to two muggle scientists whose idea of bedtime stories were mathematical treatises rather than fairytales.

Still, these creatures were made, not born, and someone would have to be nearby to control those eyes. Someone who was looking for them. Emmeline froze at the thought. The golem took another step deeper into the alley, mud squelching beneath its mammoth foot.

No, this thing wasn’t alive, not in any traditional sense. She could see it had been quite crudely constructed with bits of branch and leaf sticking out haphazardly from its hulking body and boulder-like head though its torso was too thin. The proportions were all wrong, which made it look more like an oafish scarecrow. The creator must have been in a hurry. Of course, this wasn’t an art class and nobody was giving points for style, she supposed, nearly laughing out loud as she felt hysteria bubble up inside her chest. The thing was still terrifying and she had no doubt it would be haunting her nightmares for weeks.

This was Emmeline’s first mission for the Order, her and Marlene’s first together, and honestly she had hoped for something a little less dangerous. Still, she was more than ready to get this over with and apparate back to the tiny flat in West Gate where she could have a hot shower and an even hotter cup of tea. She pushed away the small voice that sounded suspiciously like her mother, which wondered why Emmeline always thought everything could be remedied so easily. She never did have much patience.

Across the alley behind some bins, Emmeline could just make out the outline of Marlene, still hidden in the shadows, as she shifted onto her heels. Emmeline followed her cue and widened her stance, readying herself. She hadn’t dueled anyone—or anything—since seventh year. Marlene had given her an extremely rushed refresher only hours earlier as they traveled to Manchester to serve as lookouts to some wider mission but over the last three years, Emmeline had been more likely to wield a quill at her Ministry job to parse out menacing memos rather than join street battles. Precise grammar and a scathing wit couldn’t help her here.

Of course, that was before her boss had discovered she was muggle born and had attempted to kill her.

Emmeline’s thin willow wand quivered between her fingers. She searched her memory for a spell—any spell—that might at least slow the progression of the golem but she had no time to think. At some cue neither woman could see or hear, the creature began to charge down the alley, destroying everything in its wake. As it tossed aside bins of rubbish, flattening the tin cans and packing boxes beneath its massive feet, Marlene and Emmeline moved as one.

Emmeline cast the first spell that came to her mind and a blast of hot air crackled in the air, landing on the golem’s chest. Her _Foehn_ spell turned the sticky wet mud shiny and hard. Tiny cracks began to form on the surface of its skin as a sound like popcorn popping filled the air as water evaporated like a ceramic jug fired too quickly in a kiln. Before she could cast a second spell, Marlene sent a blast that shattered the creature, leaving only shards of clay and the wet stumps of its legs dissolving in a puddle of rain and foul gray mud.

Marlene darted out, plucking a small square of parchment from what remained of its head, which she unfolded and inspected in the faint light. Emmeline could pick out runes but couldn't read them, the ink already beginning to run. Marlene ripped it in half and then again until all that was left was confetti, which she let fall from her hands.

"That wasn't so bad," Marlene whispered, her voice cracking on the last word. She’d been just as frightened, then, which was strangely comforting. She shook herself then cleared her throat. "You were brilliant. I knew you would be.”

"Do you think that's all? Is it over already?"

Marlene looked up at the sky and Emmeline followed where she pointed. The spell that had carried the misting rain broke, no longer needed, and the clouds were swirling away. “I don’t suppose whoever was controlling that thing will come to investigate what happened to it now that they know we’re here but we’ll wait to be sure.”

Emmeline’s dark blue robes hung damp against her skin and she shivered as she looked up into the suddenly clear sky. She could see the stars as they rose out of the gloaming, no longer concealed by the scattering of clouds. She picked out Ophiuchus--the Serpent Bearer, the 13th zodiac--and closed her eyes to it. It was a bad omen, at least if you believed in portents, and Emmeline reminded herself that she wasn't a superstitious witch. Instead she forced her thoughts onto her favorite constellation, remembering the way she had connected the dot of freckles sprinkled across Marlene's shoulders with her tongue just that morning, and smiled.

As if reading her thoughts, Marlene slipped her hand into Emmeline's, pulling her to lean against the cool brick wall. "I almost think you enjoyed that."

"I was thinking of something else," Emmeline murmured, once again wishing herself back into Marlene's soft bed in the tiny flat in West Gate that Emmeline had initially sought refuge in but now thought of as home. Her legs felt quite weak and she slid her hand into Marlene's robes, grasping at her small waist to keep herself standing.

Marlene hummed back, her cherry red lips twitching up into something like the ghost of a smile. "Look," she said, pointing to a fernlike plant that had nestled in the crevice, growing between two cracked bricks in the wall near where Emmeline rested her head. She brushed her fingertip over its single bloom, five tiny yellow petals, but didn't pluck it. "It reminds me of your nightgown."

Emmeline felt her cheeks go warm, blushing in the dark. It was so like Marlene, who even in this damp, stinking place managed to find some bit of beauty. She closed her eyes again and thought once more about that morning, about the way Marlene had slid her hands beneath the thin cotton of Emmeline's shift to stroke Emmeline's thighs and press her fingers deep inside her. It'd only been their second time making love, Emmeline worrying, as she always did, that she was clumsy and awkward, and Marlene assuring her that she was perfect and graceful—that together they were beautiful.

When she opened her eyes, she found Marlene was studying her closely. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking now,” she whispered, and Emmeline breathed out a laugh, knowing in a glance that Marlene was seeking out another improbable bit of brilliance in this unlikely place. 

Emmeline wasn’t surprised when Marlene made it herself, leaning forward to catch Marlene’s mouth in a searing kiss, her soft, full breasts brushing against Emmeline’s flat chest. For a second Emmeline thought of Alastor Moody’s warnings about vigilance and his misgivings that Emmeline wasn’t ready for a fight. She had reservations, too, though she hadn’t admitted it out loud, unwilling to be shepherded off somewhere safe—some place where Marlene wasn’t. 

Whenever Marlene kissed her like this, Emmeline was sure that she was ready to take on Voldemort himself.

After a few minutes, they pulled away, just far enough to breathe, and Emmeline pushed Marlene’s soft curls from her eyes, gathering a handful of hair at the base of her skull. She watched as Marlene’s lashes brushed mothlike against her cheek, her eyes focused on Emmeline’s lips. They would have kissed again if not for the sound of footsteps near the mouth of the alley, rushing along this time on lighter feet. 

Once more Moody’s warnings came to mind and she groaned both at being disturbed and at the thought of how they might have been caught. Drawing out their wands again, they turned, waiting to face this new challenge as they clutched each other’s hands.

Out of the darkness came a great black dog bounding into the alley, his nose pressed to the ground where the golem had once stood. He sniffed then sneezed, shaking his body from tip to tail before giving a low, clipped woof. Another figure appeared then, moving slowly from the arc of a street light into the mouth of the alley. 

It was Remus Lupin, looking somehow even more worn than the last time Emmeline had seen him just four weeks ago. Everything had gone wrong at once with her boss and her job, leaving her penniless and potentially homeless. Even the boggart she had discovered in a long disused cupboard as she hurriedly packed her belongings had seemed like an impossible obstacle though she’d been embarrassed to ask for help with what was essentially third year magic. Remus had turned up quite unexpectedly, listened to her woes, trapped her boggart, and in turn recruited her for the Order. She’d gone into hiding that very night. At the time his appearance had seemed quite fortuitous but now she understood the Order must have known she was in danger.

Remus rested his hand on the dog's shaggy head, peering into the dark, and the dog leaned heavily against his legs, nearly knocking him over. His cheeks were thin and pale, streaked with mud—more golems, she supposed—but his eyes were bright.

"At night they come without being fetched," he whispered, reciting the agreed upon words that sounded strange and out of place in the grimy streets of Manchester but Emmeline answered dutifully. “And by day they’re lost without being stolen.”

"Stars," Marlene answered, playing her part. “Luckily for you I travel with a Ravenclaw now. If Sirius were here, he’d have never let you choose riddles for the passwords.”

“He always chooses lyrics by the Beatles,” Remus answered as he came closer, the dog following. “He’s convinced that no Slytherin has ever listened to more than _A Hard Day’s Night._ ”

The dog woofed again, sounding almost as if it were laughing, and Remus looked at it fondly. The soft smile that crossed his lips made him look younger, more like his age despite the smattering of gray in his hair and his eyes darkened by war and loss. She had an urge to hug him and wondered if he ever smiled like that at someone other than the dog. She hoped so, especially since he was the one who had introduced her to Marlene. Despite having to dodge the occasional murderous rampage, she was quite as happy as she had ever been. 

"They'll be here soon," he said, cutting across her thoughts. His voice was calm as he stroked the dog’s ears, almost as though he were speaking of friends they were meeting with at a club and not foes on a battlefield.

Emmeline braced herself, her fingers curling tightly around her wand whilst she reached for Marlene again with her other hand, not caring this time if Remus saw. Golems would be the least of their worries, she knew. They had merely been the first line of offense. Her mother was right: nothing was ever easy.

Marlene nodded, squeezing Emmeline’s hand back. "We're ready."

Remus gave the name of a small cemetery to the north of the city and then was gone, curling his fingers into the ruff around the dog's neck and disapparating with a loud pop.

"You don't regret..." Marlene began and then stopped. "It's not too late for you to turn back. I could help you hide."

Emmeline turned to her, studying her profile—her soft, yielding mouth, button nose covered in freckles, her high forehead in which a phrenologist would have read intelligence and a quick wit. There was love there, too, the wild, winsome, carefree love that was all Marlene. Before this, Emmeline’s life had been brittle, dull, and colorless. She'd spent hours at her small desk buried in the Ministry, and hours more fending off the advances of her boss. She preferred the fact that he was now trying to kill her.

“I don’t want to hide,” she said, echoing the words she had said when Remus first introduced them—the first time she’d met anyone else inside the Order. Marlene smiled, nodded her head—pleased, Emmeline could tell. Proud of her in a way that no one had been since she’d made top marks in her Charms exams too many years ago.

Somewhere near, a church bell began to chime, the heavy sound carrying through the city. It was cold and the sky was still clear. Emmeline adjusted the bright red scarf around Marlene’s neck and then squared her shoulders, ready. She was sure, as long as Marlene was at her side. She was ready to fight, as long as there was something worth fighting for. Holding out her hand again and smiling more bravely than she felt when Marlene's soft fingers curled against hers, she waited only until the last toll struck before she apparated them both away and once more into the fray.


End file.
